Chapter Text
Aya was in the kitchen sitting at a small dining table by the window drinking some coffee and reading a bit. It was his typical morning routine. He was easy to live with for Ken, as far as minding his own business was concerned. He was typically unfriendly, as always but more mellow. Maybe it was the fact that his sister had come too that mellowed him out a bit even though he made no efforts to contact her. In fact he seemed to do anything in his power to avoid her. She had not seen him since she awoke from the coma.
Ken was usually the poor bastard that had to get the shop opened up. Aya worked decently enough, but sometimes tended to get out of doing a lot of the opening chores. He didn't mind so much that he usually had to open. Lately he had found that routine was good for him and with the other two members of Weiß not currently living under the same roof it had calmed the general hectic schedule down a bit. Plus, the new shop was quite a bit smaller than the last. Being tucked away in a small neighborhood kept business to a minimum and they blessedly had very few school girls to deal with nowadays because of it.
The brunette’s usual morning routine was anything but quiet. It’s not that he meant to be noisy it was just somehow his very movement in the new building seemed to echo about. It would have been easy for Aya to know where he was at any given moment. In fact he was down the hall right now brushing his teeth and humming to himself. It was amazing that he was capable of being quiet on the ‘job’.
He liked the new shop uniforms as well; smart blue polo shirts with simple black waist aprons made everyone look the part. Yohji had of coursed complained, stating that a polo was so not his style but he never once showed up to work without it on. One last look in the mirror confirmed Ken’s neatness and he swung out the bathroom door towards the kitchen.
Aya looks up from his paper, his violet eyes trained on Ken as he loudly made his presence known. He watched him intently for a few moments before looking away. Putting the paper down he gets up to refill his coffee. He had his polo on, but the apron was still on the table under the newspaper. A sure signal that Aya would not be doing opening chores, as usual. In fact he had not shown up at all the day before, having been gone when Ken got up and returning late that night.
“Need a different brand of coffee.” He finally says, his voice deep but cold sounding. “This stuff tastes like shit.” He murmurs as he puts in more cream and sugar than normal.
Ken gives him a wide sidelong glance from the open refrigerator door. “Good morning to you too Aya-kun.” He proceeded to remove some fruit and vegetables then grabbed a large container of protein powder off the top of the fridge. “Sorry, I didn't know you disliked that brand.” He put his armload on the counter by a pristine black blender. Lately he’d been on a breakfast power smoothie kick. Some of the stuff he put in those things would make even the strongest of stomachs clench, but he never really seemed to mind. In fact he thought he was noticing a bit more muscle in his upper body.
The reality of the situation was that Ken did the shopping, cleaning and most of the daily shop chores as well. Aya merely ‘helped’. He never begrudged the redhead of this and to be honest Aya never really made much of a mess anyhow. “Is there any type you like more? I can pick up some on my way to the grocer this afternoon. I”ll just give the rest to Mrs. Nishimura next door.” Mrs. Nishimura owned the adjoining building and had to be in her 80’s. She was deaf as a post to boot but insisted on baking the boys traditional sweets and bringing them by wrapped in neatly tied blue cellophane. She always got Ken’s name right but insisted on calling Aya, Anna. Ken found it all rather sweet and amusing. He also thought that she probably assumed Aya was a woman. He never bothered to correct her though.
Aya pulled a can out of the garbage bin. “This kind.” He says. “Premium roast,” he throws it away again. The redhead looked over at Ken and was obviously scrutinizing every ingredient that the brunette was planning to put in his breakfast shake. He finally just gives up and makes a face and looks away. Aya didn't have a problem with the fitness buff at all, in fact he found it charming and a bit amusing… as long as he didn't have to actually WATCH him drink his breakfast concoctions.
He didn't rag on him about it though. To be honest Aya had noticed a difference as well. Ken was getting a bit stockier in his arms and chest, so even if it looked atrocious, his new breakfast choice was working. The redhead already viewed Ken as more of a power house than himself, as his weapon of choice was of course more of a hands on kind of affair.
He stirs his coffee and goes to sit down again. “I appreciate it.” The redhead says at long last. Though it was a wonder, he thought to himself that he himself wasn't going to get fat off Nishimura’s treats.
Ken gave him a bright and winning smile. It was amazing those pearly whites didn't gleam in the dark. There had definitely been a change in Ken since the collapse of the museum tower and battle with Schwartz. It was like it had somehow motivated him and it was probably the happiest that Aya had seen him in the year or so they’d known each other. Out of the four of them Ken had probably come out the best. He seemed to no longer be dealing with his betrayal issues and was in general just all around pleasant to be with. He had even started teaching some of the neighborhood kids some soccer tricks in his free time.
To the casual observer Ken did make quite the spitting image of a soccer dad. If anyone in the neighborhood had any ideas about him and Aya they kept them to themselves but truth be told Ken did make quite the little homemaker. In the space of a few short months he had turned the shabby little apartment above the shop into a nicely furnished home even going so far as to ask Aya what sort of colors he’d like in the kitchen.
The boys had a lot of free time these days as missions were slow coming in since the death of Persia. Omi was doing his best to deal with things on that end but it was slow going most of the time. So in that spare time Ken had made the best of things and seemed overall quite happy.
“Gotcha!” He poured his concoction into a tall glass. “You need anything else?” He walked to the fridge and wrote ‘Premium roast’ on a small magnetic sticky pad. “Oh, I don’t know if Yohji is coming in today or not so could you watch the shop while I run out this afternoon?” He didn't bother to ask where Aya had been yesterday...there was little point after all. Aya was probably one of the most private people he knew. That certainly didn't mean he didn't wonder, he just knew better than to ask.
Aya nods. “Sure I’ll handle it.” He says sipping his coffee, frowning, then sipping it again. Aya was a private person but seeing Ken so excited about life again did bring the redhead out of his typical morose attitude at times. It took a bit of prodding for Aya to get involved in the decor of the home but small questions about where to put certain things or colors Aya did answer and be a part of at least. It seemed Ken was a good match for Aya as far as room mates were concerned. If he lived alone no one would probably ever see him at all. Those rare moments where Aya did come out of his shell were few and far between, but they were there from time to time.
He finally gives up on his coffee; picky man that he was sometimes. He pours it out and rinses out the cup. Aya eyes the odd concoction breakfast-thing of Ken’s again warily then shakes his head. “Doubt we’ll see Omi either, but that's pretty normal.” Grabbing his apron he wraps it around his waist. Seemed one of those rare days he’d actually come down to help open. It was hard to tell, he tended to change his mind last minute sometimes.
Ken finished chugging the last of his shake. “Yeah, he’s been really busy lately with school and all that Take...family stuff.” Ken tried not to mention the name Taketori around Aya. Even though the whole situation had calmed down a bit and Aya had accepted the fact that Omi was indeed, by blood a Taketori he still didn't like to push his luck. He quickly rinsed out his glass and put the blender in the sink to soak.
Trying to change the subject he brought up the days shop activities. “Seems like we had a rather big order come in last night. I only listened to the message on the machine once though so we’ll have to hear it again to get everything down.” He proceeded down the hall and to the small stairway that lead into the back of the shop.
The building was old but in good shape. Whatever the shop had been before, the owner had obviously taken care of it. Once Ken had tried to ask Mrs. Nishimura about it but she didn't seem to know any details. After the battle the boys couldn't go back to the old shop and had ended up staying in a hotel for a couple of weeks while they recovered; that had been awkward. Even though Omi’s family was in a state of shock and disarray at the time he’d been able to procure some funds and just buy the building outright for them. He got it for a steal. Seeing the size of it though had lead to some problems as the apartment upstairs only had two bedrooms. Yohji had dipped into his cash supply and found a cheap place nearby that wasn't too terribly seedy and Omi was attending a private school with dorms for his last year of high school.
Aya follows him down. The name still had a bitter taste to it, so he did appreciate Ken’s aversion to saying it out loud. “I’ll listen to it and write everything down.” He tells him. “I think I can handle that without going crazy.” The redhead starts pulling flowers out of one of the coolers and setting up their little tables of specials and things.
Aya honestly preferred working without Yohji. Yohji had gotten stranger than he himself had after the battle with Schwartz. It made him edgy and a bit high strung. They tended to bicker a bit as well when the blonde was around.
“What time are you heading outta here Ken?”
The well muscled brunette stepped out the sliding front door of the shop and began to raise the metal shutters. He could still hear Aya puttering about inside. “Probably not till after 3, that’s when the guy at the market marks his produce down for the day so I like to go in the afternoon and get a good deal.” He smiled cheekily at Aya through the window. Fact was it was probably the best both of them had eaten in quite some time. Ken cooked almost every night and there were always left overs in the fridge. Even though the other boys didn't live with them anymore he always made enough for the four of them, just in case. He had become quite the cook lately and his specialty was Italian food. Aya would have to be careful so he wouldn't start packing on the pounds.
Before Ken could get back inside one of the neighborhood strays came up and started wrapping itself between his legs. The little black kitten had be hanging around recently, no doubt because magically a bowl of milk started appearing on the front stoop every night. No matter where they ended up they just couldn't escape their association with cats. Ken bent down to run his hands over the sleek fur then turned and walked back in. As was customary he left the sliding door open after he had hung the noren curtain above the entrance. A fresh early spring breeze filtered in through the place.
He started helping Aya with the other containers of flowers. They were having a special this week on Iris and the bright green stalks of the plants were bursting with beautiful blue and purple flowers. They had even received a shipment of unique white ones with red centers. Those would be sure to sell out quick.
Aya certainly did appreciate Ken’s love for the culinary arts as he himself didn't like to cook that much. The brunette was good at it, and that made it all the better. He was gaining a little weight but it wasn't enough to affect him during the few missions they’d had.
“There are more Iris in the back cooler.” Aya tells Ken as he lines up the containers neatly where they belong while open. He then goes to the answering machine and plays the message on it, writing down quickly the entire order. Ken knew the redhead would most likely hang in the back and work on that all day while he left the customers for him, but he’d be up front when Ken had to leave. At least he was dependable in that way.
Ken returns with another armload of flowers just as the message ends. “Sounds like a big order.” Something about someone’s birthday...Before he could set the container down another beep issued from the machine. That’s strange, he thought. The last message had been left after 8:30 and he’d been in the shop till 9. Who would have called so late?
After several seconds pause a slurred but not entirely unfamiliar voice came over the line. “Aya...Aya! Pick up your god damned phone man!” It was Yohji and both of them knew the sound of his voice when he was drunk. “I've...been trying to get a hold of you for hours. I need to tell you something.” Another long pause, the sound of ice clinking in a glass in the background. “It’s...it’s important...call me back.” Click…
Aya glances at Ken, then pulls out his own phone. “I’ll be right back.” He says, heading to the back of the shop and into the coolers. He speed dials Yohji, waiting for him to pick up. What the hell could be so damn important… he thought to himself. Aya idly plays with the petals on a rose as he listens to the phone dial in and ring.
Six rings before the phone finally connects on the other end. “Waddaya want?” Yohji’s sleepy voice issues across the line. It’s deep and husky sounding no doubt from the overload of booze and smokes from the night before.
He hadn't bothered to look at the caller ID. It was after 9 in the morning but that didn't mean much to the sandy blonde. He was convinced by this point that he was naturally nocturnal in nature. Besides, night was when all the interesting things happened. ‘Heh’, who was he kidding? Nothing was interesting anymore. Rolling over onto his back he reached for his smokes, the remnants of last nights pack resting on the shelving of his headboard.
“It’s Aya. You called me nagging me to pick up the phone at some point last night. I missed it.” He says. “What seems to be so important?” His voice held no real inflection to it, the deep roll of his words seeming without emotion or care at this point. He lowered his hand from the rose and turned, leaning his back against the cooler wall in a relaxed state.
“Hn? I called you?” There was a short pause while Yohji lit up a cigarette. “I don’t remember calling you.” He let out a slightly exasperated breath and sat up. Somewhere in the back of his brain though he had a nagging sensation but the harsh light of day seemed to make it impossible to track down.
Truth was last night had been a little rough, OK, who was he kidding? It was pretty bad last night but Aya was the last person in the world he’d actually want to admit that too. He’d been at a bar and had gotten shot down by some woman. Feeling defeated he’d taken his deflated ego back to his hole in the wall apartment and proceeded to finish off most of a bottle whiskey. The prospect of spending yet another night alone had driven him further into the bottle than he cared to admit. Without another body in his bed the nightmares were always much worse.
“Hey man, my bad. I must of had a little too much to drink last night.” He tried to sound jovially abashed...embarrassed a little even. He wasn't sure how well he pulled it off though and Aya was just so damned hard to read. Sometimes he wanted to choke the redhead until his eyes bugged out just to get a reaction out of him.
Aya makes a small grunt sound, which probably meant nothing, but it was an acknowledgement if anything. “I see.” He finally said after another pause. “Well if it is nothing, then I will let you get back to your hangover.” As usual Aya didn't make it obvious if he took Yohji’s bluff or not, but anyone who knew Aya would know he typically saw right through most of them, though he didn't typically call people out. If they wanted to tell him the whole truth they’d do it from the get go he figured.
“Will we be seeing you in the shop today?” He finally asks.
“Am I scheduled to come in?” He honestly didn't give a crap whether or not he was supposed to be in. The whole flower shop gig was a fucking joke anyhow. They weren't even in a good area anymore to have people come in. He may have always professed to liking women over 18 but that certainly didn't stop him from looking at all the high school girls when they came in at the old shop. Now they were a rather long distance from the nearest high school.
“What’s Ken doing today?” He asked suddenly. For some reason lately he found it a bit awkward to be around Ken and Aya at the same time. Since the two of them had started living there alone there was a pervasive air of domesticity that gave Yohji the heebie jeebies. It bugged him a little too that after everything, Ken seemed so...well normal. It made Yohji’s downhill slide, which he ignored as much as possible, all the more glaring.
“He’s out after three. Has errands and shit to run, I don’t know I didn't ask, that's just what he said.” He tells him. “We don’t put you on the schedule because you show up whenever you just feel like it. Which is fine.” It seemed Aya was pretty neutral about a lot of things. He himself just didn't care half the time depending on what it was. “So it would just be me to pick annoying fights with.”
Yohji was silent for a minute on the other end of the line. For all of his neutrality that last statement from Aya seemed a little peevish. It wasn't that he enjoyed starting fights with him, they just somehow always happened. There was something about Aya not giving a flying fuck that just pushed Yohji’s buttons. It had gotten worse too since the tower. Yohji didn't know if it was because Aya-chan was awake and Aya had nothing left; no revenge, but it bothered him. After everything the four of them had done how could he be so deadpan all the time.
One time when he was working in the shop with Ken and Aya he’d heard the strangest sound. Turning around he realized Aya had let out a little chuckle and was actually smiling! It was brief, if Yohji had blinked at the wrong moment he would have missed it. Ken had made a joke and it had actually cracked Aya’s ‘I don’t give a damn’ exterior. That had really bothered him for some reason but he didn't quite understand why.
“Well if you don’t want me there all you have to do is say so.” His voice had a bit of a bite to it. In truth he felt kind of useless when he was there. The shop was so small, there really wasn't much for him to do. He often felt like he was in the way.
“As I said, you show up when you feel like it, so I don’t care.” He says sighing a little. ‘’Do what you want.” His voice still showing no positive or negative to his feelings behind it. “I’ll let you get back to your sleep,” and with that he hung up. He heads back out front and starts watering the potted plants as if nothing had ever happened.
Yohji stares at the phone in his hand for a moment as the beep of the disconnect blares out. “Son of bitch!” He slams the phone down into the mattress and crushes his cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray. He had half a mind to show up anyway and with Ken being gone that afternoon maybe he could confront Aya about his little ‘I don’t give a shit’ attitude. The blonde stalked off towards his bathroom. He at least had the decency to not show up smelling of liquor and smoke.
Ken raises his eyebrows at Aya. “Everything alright?” Even with Yohji being drunk as a skunk Ken had half hoped it may have been something to do with a mission. He could see Aya slowly starting to retreat into his shell again and he thought a job might do him some good. A year ago Ken couldn't have handled that thought but when it really came down to it, they were all just killers. Trained to hunt those wicked men and women who were just out of the reach of the law. It was plain to see that they were all going a little stir crazy, Ken just accepted that things would come in time. He may have been the most well adjusted of the group but that didn't mean he didn't feel the need to flex his muscles every once in a while. You would have been blind to not see that his increased performance routine had nothing to do with that.
“He was drunk last night, doesn't remember calling me. He probably got blown off by some bimbo.” He tells Ken, turning off the hose. “I don’t really care, I’m just glad I didn't wake up for his shit.” The redhead obviously was low tolerance for Yohji more than most, but it was mostly due to a clash of alpha male personalities. “I told him to show up if he felt like it, but I probably made him mad again so he’ll definitely be here.”
Ken shrugged. “I think you antagonize him more that you’d like to admit.” Again with the cheeky smile. He walked over to where Aya was standing with the hose. “Just…” he got serious all of sudden, “it may not hurt to cut him a little slack now and again.” The brunette reached out to put his hand on Aya’s shoulder. “I know no one wants to admit it but I don’t think he’s doing so hot.” His blue green eyes searched Aya’s for a moment. He knew the redhead was fully capable of not being a stone statue every now and again, he just hoped he wasn't pushing too much. “If you like, I can stick around this afternoon?” He didn't relish being a buffer between the two but he hated how the friction between them upset the calm environment he’d worked so hard for.
He stares at him, his eyes digging coldly into Kens, before suddenly they softened just a little. “I suppose you are right. I’m not going to pat his baby ass, but I’ll try to be understanding.” He gives a little nod as if he had to ascertain for himself that he would really do such a thing.
“You can stick around if you want.” He shrugs. “He asked if you would be gone. Maybe you piss him off too?” He starts coiling up the hose.
A rather confused looked crossed Ken’s face. “You think I piss him off?” He’d never really considered the prospect. For the most part he and Yohji had been civil to each other throughout their careers as assassins. He couldn't fathom why Yohji would have a problem with him all of a sudden. “Really?” The brunette cocked his head to the side like a puppy. “Maybe I’ll take the long way back then?”
Before Ken could say anything else or Aya could reply they both heard the familiar, “Ohayo-gozaimasu,” from a customer entering the store. Ken turned to greet a woman in her late 20’s carrying some shopping bags. “I’d like some flowers delivered please.” She said with a small smile.
Aya nods. “Maybe ask him sometime.” He adds before turning to work. He laid into getting that order from the message machine in the works, really tying into it. He’d let Ken handle the customer…. as usual.
Aya was though not without his thoughts as he worked. Why would Yohji call him? There had to be a reason even if it was a reason in an alcohol addled brain. Why did Ken seem so concerned about all of it? Did it really matter? What would Yohji do if pushed too far? A lot of questions rocked about in his mind, but his face betrayed none of it.
Ken greeted the woman and began walking her through the process of placing her order. Her daughter was graduating from middle school and she wanted some flowers delivered to her at school. Their conversation lasted a few minutes as Ken suggested some of the uniquely colored iris and maybe a lily or two. Would she like it in a vase or wrapped as a bouquet? The usual series of questions. She left shortly after paying thanking him for the excellent service.
The rest of the day followed the usual routine, a handful of customers and a few phone orders. Ken made up some small vase arrangements and re-potted a few plants. Come lunchtime a local bento vendor stopped by to see if they wanted anything. Ken selected a couple of items from his push cart and brought one back for Aya. He really wanted to ask Aya what he thought was going on with Yohji but thought better of it so he just dropped off his lunch and went back out front.
Aya thanked him for the bento and dug right into it. Seemed he had worked up an appetite. The redhead could sense that Ken wanted to ask him about Yohji. It seemed the hot topic of the day, but in the end he was glad he said nothing of it, as Aya himself wasn't even sure what was going on in the blondes mind either way.
Three o’clock finally rolled around and the shop had been nearly dead for an hour. “Hey, Aya.” Ken called into the back. “I’m going to run to the grocer now. Besides your coffee do you want anything specific? Anything for dinner tonight?” He hoped that Aya would be staying in the evening as the brunette found himself wanting to spend more time with his roommate. Fishing in the register he pulled out a couple of 2,000 yen notes.
“You are the one with the culinary interest, surprise me.” He tells him. “The coffee is really my only request. It’s pretty important.” He was leaning against the register counter idly watching passersby walking down the street and such from his view of the lane.
“Alright, I’ll see what I can come up with.” He stuffed the money in his brown leather wallet and took off the shop apron.
Just as he was ready to walk out the door Yohji strolled in, a lightweight black jacket slung over one shoulder. His hair was pulled back by a simple elastic and looked like a puffy little bunny butt on the back of his head. Yohji tended not to wash his hair everyday as it always got frizzy. The hair was a clear sign he’d showered that day. He pushed large, dark aviator sunglasses up to the top of his head. Despite his effort at looking presentable there were obvious bags under his eyes.
“Ken, Aya.” Was all he said in greeting as he walked to the back to hang up his jacket.
Ken shot Aya a look that spoke volumes. “Well I’m out for the day. Nice to see you Yohji!” He spoke in his most friendly voice then practically bounded out the door.